The second of a three part series on faith with just a hint of economic insight added for seasoning.

Well, those of you reading that subtitle up there would be well within your rights to ask, “Part 2? When in the heck did part 1 come out?” Too long ago, fair, merryweather pilgrim of the blog. But need we really dwell on my pedestrian efforts towards consistency? Need we take time to “tut-tut” this belabored fellow for his crimes? Perhaps…but, in the spirit of resilience, to part 2 we shall nonetheless embark.

Those who recall the first entry into this mini-series will hopefully recall the abiding principle we’ve adopted for it, namely — The Creator is Consistent. I endeavored in the first part to show that the principles we draw from one area of our lives (in this case, economics) should find some corollary to other parts of our lives (our faith, so I charge). I continue to make this my aim, though it may be begged as to why? To this, I think I would posit that I do this in the same spirit as C.S. Lewis did with the Screwtape Letters. Just as Lewis addressed the Christian walk from the devilish viewpoint and opened up a whole world of insight, so I hope in tackling our faith through this lens, we may find ourselves set afresh with new perspective. Not that novelty is prized for its own sake, but I think it valuable to add a tool to our belt now and then.

Living, as I do, in the DC area brings a certain set of life experiences. One such experience is that of rubbing shoulders with some of the brightest, smartest, and most-highly driven individuals one is going to find anywhere and everywhere. People find themselves swiftly caught up into the ranks of the politically, socially, and professionaly elite members of our country, and you would be amazed how seamlessly this change happens. Nor is it localized to the work sphere; visit any one of the local churches, and odds are good you’ll find equally driven parishoners seeking to “do more” as they attempt to walk the good Christian road. I don’t believe this drive is localized only to churches in the DC area or any other power hub, but I do think it becomes more pronounced. The real estate slogan, “location, location, location” bears relevance on more than just residential concerns.

Rest easy, I’m not here to disparage any of that fervor and intensity. I suspect our nation’s churches are primarily plagued by apathy; the American gospel is a bit cool and could stand to be warmed. Yet, as we go about that process, I think it would behoove us to consider an application of opportunity cost. Economists formally recognize opportunity cost as the most valued alternative one gives up to engage in an action. So, let’s take our random, hum-drum parishoner (we’ll call him Anthony for kicks), and let’s assume he’s got two most valued ministry opportunities before him, one of which he will pick to do:

1. Work as a selfless, life-giving saint in the children’s ministry, giving of his very essence to help youngsters internalize kingdom principles while granting parents a much needed respite for an hour, so they may be refreshed by communion with God and others.
2. Sell out to those sanctified schmucks on the coffee team who keep poaching children’s volunteers.

Assuming these really are the two most valued choices before him, the opportunitiy cost becomes the unchosen choice. If Anthony chooses children’s ministry, the opportunity cost of doing so is foregoing the coffee team (side note: he is also an objectively swell fella for doing so). If Anthony chooses the road to perdition and joins the coffee team, then the opportunity cost of doing so is foregoing children’s ministry (and thus he becomes said sanctified schmuck).

Realistically though, people rarely have binary choices like these. We could expand that example to include choices of sleeping in, grabbing breakfast with a friend, working out, finishing a chapter in a book, doing some work, etc. At any moment of choice, Anthony has a plethora of options available to him, but his opportunity cost remains the most highly valued alternative that he turns down.

Foundational to the idea of opportunity cost, we must also recognize the reality of the economic profession’s fundamental principle: scarcity. In a world with no scarcity of time or resources, it doesn’t really matter whether Anthony chooses to work on the coffee team or in children’s ministry. In a scarce world (i.e – the real one), it matters tremendously, for his choice implies the inherent and unavoidable foregoing of another one. Even if Anthony manages his time better than others or has more resources available to him, he still has his limits somewhere, the limit economics calls the hard-budget constraint.

Many people intuitively recognize and abide by these principles in their daily lives; it’s just in the good-natured phase of planning that they tend to forget about them. Churches and the Christians within them are hardly exempt, though we have the pious misreading of Philippians 4:13 to help us gloss over this fact. If we go about our ministries without recognizing that our actions always entail a cost, we stand ready to overextend and misapply ourselves, a fact which I do not think is in keeping with living a life of wisdom. It’s not that costs are an evil; it’s that they are a fact of life. We must order our wants and desires, or they will be ordered for us. It is a matter of stewardship, and it includes our service to Christ and His Kingdom.

I stated earlier in this piece that I believe a well-heated, intense faith is good for the Kingdom, and I unashamedly stand by that assertion. Yet, I do wonder if perhaps we sometimes fall prey to messages of “doing more” that lack the nuance to be helpful, a fact I would attribute to ignorance before I attribute it to malice. Full devotion to Christ and His Kingdom is an absolute good, but how we demonstrate that devotion must be (a) contextualized to each person’s circumstances, and (b) considered in recognition that choosing one option will mean forgoing another. We cannot do it all for the kingdom, and I don’t think we are meant to.

When I was in school, I remember an example that was given to us one day by a teacher. She filled a large container with beans (representing the normalties of life) and placed a tennis ball (representing service to God) on top. With this arrangement, she was unable to close the lid on the container; that is, until she put the tennis ball in first and then filled the beans in around it; the obvious implication was not lost even on my young and easily distracted mind. Put the kingdom first, and fill your life in around that central fact. Yet even from this quaint illustration, note where the solution did not come from. It was not that a larger jar was given in that instant, nor was a smaller tennis ball or fewer beans supplied. We can neither ask God for 25 hours in our day, nor can we ask for 23. He has given us 24, and we must never forget that his natural decrees are an equally valid expression of His will.

Too often, I think the temptation in ministry is to grasp at the first thing that comes our way, and, granted, it probably comes from a place of sincerity. I don’t blame the fervent young lad or the reinvigorated senior citizen for looking to redeem their time in service to Christ and his kingdom. And in full disclosure, this first jump is probably better than nothing at all. A child has to stumble first before it can walk. Yet, if we are looking to mature and progress in our faith, I can’t escape the conclusion that we must eventually apply discernment to which ministries we work in, recognizing the costs of doing so (once again, not as an inherent bad but as a fact). Perhaps in doing so, we may realize the worship team is quite overtaxed, and thus we shall polish off our cornets to join them. Could it be that foregoing Sunday school to help prep the tech booth may be a tradeoff worth taking? Or is it even possible to realize that our gifts lie in our income, that the general grace fund has been underfunded as of late, and that our service in time may be better given through donating our wages?

These questions and the others that follow are for each believer to answer, personally and prayerfully. Much as it may be tempting to do so, I do not think Scripture provides thick, detailed guides on how to navigate these puzzles, but rather it connects us to the source of wisdom who is shaping us daily into His image. Those with deeply renewed minds need very thin rulebooks, and great freedom and life abounds there.

Let us then, brothers and sisters, grow to consider the costs of our actions. For our Lord too considered his own—and in His choices—deemed us worthy.